


Andre's Guest

by Archangel_Beth



Category: In Nomine
Genre: Andre would like some, He may be wrong, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, he thinks, very wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 05:50:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Beth/pseuds/Archangel_Beth
Summary: (While this doesn't get into actual, well, positions and whatnot, it's probably not entirely worksafe, either, due to theeeeeemes. Ahem.)Andrealphus, Prince of Lust, has acquired the straight-laced -- but currently kind of drugged-up -- Archangel of the Sword, Commander of the Armies of God, once a Servitor of Purity, etc., etc. Andrealphus thinks this is going according to plan.





	Andre's Guest

* * *

Andrealphus carefully finished cinching a soft, white, leather strap around the ebony wrist of the unconscious Malakite, and stepped back to admire the effect. White and red leather for the collar and cuffs, and white satin for the thong.

All right, his little project might well have cost the life of the Prince of Drugs -- but really, that was more of a feature. Perhaps he'd mention Fleurity's weakened state to Haagenti. Perhaps not.

Right now... Right now, he was going to be busy. Busy with the Commander of the Host of Heaven, who had proven vulnerable to one of Fleurity's little potions after all. Andrealphus had already dispatched a team to... liberate... the research team who'd designed the knock-out drug.

Now, if all went according to way the test subjects had reacted, dear Laurence would wake up with an actual sex drive and lowered inhibitions. Andrealphus was really looking forward to finding out what dark, secret lusts ran beneath the Archangel's holier-than-thou surface.

He turned away to check one of the bondage "horses." It wouldn't do to have shoddy equipment. Why, if all went _really_ well, perhaps Andre's involuntary guest would want to come (and come, and come, and come) back! It made him wiggle just to think of it.

There was a stirring from the padded table where the Malakite lay, and Andrealphus turned around, watching admiringly as Laurence shifted to a sitting position and examined his new clothing.

"Do you like it?" the Prince of Lust purred. "I designed it _just_ for you. I know your responsibilities must be _so_ stressful. You must long for the chance to just... relax, and let other people do the work."

The glare he collected was in line with the drugs the Archangel had been fed, and Andrealphus gloated. This was going to be marvelous. "Just lie back, my sweet, and let me get something ready for you."

Now, for the cocktail of drug that he'd actually helped Fleurity with, to heighten sensation. His own attunements probably wouldn't work against another Superior, even a drug-hazed one, but...

"You know," came Laurence's voice from behind him. It was both sharper than he'd anticipated, and more drawling than he'd ever heard. "You know, it's funny. Everyone assumes that because I'm short, and because my 'day job' means taking responsibility and giving orders, that I'm secretly a submissive."

Clutching the potion-vial, Andrealphus turned.

The Commander of the Host had gotten one of the bullwhips, and was drawing its shining, oiled, braided leather through his fingers. He smiled at Andrealphus, and took a step, swishing the whip through the air. "No one ever considers that I might actually _like_ giving the orders."

The whip cracked. Andrealphus fled.


End file.
